


The Self Is Not So Weightless

by MelodyoftheVoid



Series: Forged Identities [1]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Brotherly Angst, Gen, Hallucinations, Imprisonment, M/M, Starvation, Touch-Starved, Zib has a Bad Time™, dib is a good brother, it's a mental breakdown, probably too good, the usual, we will see, will he ever know peace?, ~shitty kazoo~
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27966554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodyoftheVoid/pseuds/MelodyoftheVoid
Summary: After so much hurt, and so much loss, one has the dress wound to start to heal.
Relationships: Dib & Zib | Zim Number 1, Dib/Zim (Invader Zim), mentioned
Series: Forged Identities [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048246
Comments: 27
Kudos: 54





	The Self Is Not So Weightless

_ The journey to the cell was hazy, but that wasn’t much of a change honestly. Lucidity was in short supply for him in the never ending cycle of sleep and seizure; as far as he could tell it’d been either a week or a month. There was no real way to know.  _

_ The heavy iron around his wrists and ankles made the almost impossible task of walking all the more arduous, his muscles aching and screaming in protest.  _

_ For their part the guards ‘helped’ keep Zib on his feet.  _

_ As the door swung shut, old iron grating and shrieking, Gaz was the last face he saw, cold anger and resentment glaring straight through him.  _

_ “If it were up to me, you would be suffering the same fate you gave to Dib. But I guess this is similar enough.”  _

_ With that his sister left him. And Zib was alone. _

_ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ _

The nagging sensation that there was something amiss never left Dib’s side. Even as he settled back into a routine, regaining his strength and enjoying being married to Zim, he couldn’t fully bring himself to be immersed in the moment. Beit his curious nature, or the sheer magnitude of the failed wedding months prior, one unresolved thread remained.

Zib. 

Or more specifically, the state of his brother. No one seemed willing to talk openly about the ‘mad prince’ around him, or in general. The subject brought up too many old grudges; wounds borne of willful ignorance or active harm that festered in the aftermath. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand why Zim and Gaz shut down conversations in that vein, he did. 

It was the same reason that he refused to keep any overly reflective surface around honestly. 

Even still, Dib wanted to speak to Zib, to try and move on, to put to bed the questions that lingered and haunted him. He just needed to convince his ever vigilant guardians that it was a good idea. He hoped that they’d hear him out. 

And after several hours, some shouting, and quite a few tears, they did at last agree. Of course, their agreement came with stipulations: he’d travel in with a guard, and would not spend more than an hour inside. Zim in particular wanted to be right outside, just in case. 

The day arrived with little fanfare save for the dread wringing Dib’s heart. Questions swirled in his mind, dizzying and endless. He wanted to know the truth, yet there was fear at what he’d find. Was he better off not knowing after all? It didn’t help matters that the prison was off in the middle of nowhere, an imposing box of a building with few, if any, windows to be seen. 

“Your highness, I have to warn you, you’re probably not going to get anything out of him.”

  
  
The voice at his side snapped him out of his anxiety ridden musings. A guard, one Gaz selected personally, casually handed the prince a ring of keys, walking along with a far more relaxed manner than expected for visiting a traitor, one that most refused to speak of above a whisper. 

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t done much the last few days. Hell, we’re pretty sure he hasn’t moved at all. Does talk a good deal, but not to us,” the guard let out a small chuckle,”really did go mad didn’t he?”

“That will be all thank you,” Dib had to keep from snapping at the man, “I will call if you’re needed.”

“If you’re sure, your highness. I’ll stay here, but do be careful. The captain won’t hesitate to have my head...”

“I don’t doubt it, but I can handle this. He’s safely locked up after all.”

The atmosphere of the dungeon, predictably, weighed heavy and oppressive. Only the handful of lanterns lit the halls, casting long shadows that danced and swirled. The smell certainly didn’t help matters either. In all it was a miserable place that he’d never really needed to visit before, save for a handful of lessons on how kings were to deal with prisoners.

This wasn’t what his father had taught him, not by a longshot. Although he’d also never been the best at sticking to the letter of tradition anyway. 

The key fit easily into the lock, letting Dib into the chamber that held Zib. To his surprise, a second layer kept the ex-prince in, a set of bars dividing the already small room in two. And there, sat on the floor of the cell sat Zib, though if the guard hadn’t told him that this was the right room, he’d have struggled to connect the man on the floor with his brother. 

Zib’s normally well kept appearance was gone entirely, his hair greasy and limp. Plain clothes in place of the finery he once enjoyed. But the aspect that chilled Dib the most was his brother’s eyes. Lifeless and glassy, no trace of anything there; not even the determined fury and mania that he’d come to expect while he’d been trapped. There was just, nothing. 

Taking a deep breath, Dib called out. 

“Zib.”

No response, not even the barest flicker of movement to indicate that Zib even heard him. 

“Zib. Are you awake? Can you hear me?” 

A flicker, slight movement as Zib sat up, righting himself. Dib shivered at Zib’s gaze, the prisoner gaining a semblance of recognition, however unfocused it was..

“Dib?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Are you here to take me?”

Dib blinked, unsure of how to respond. Take him? He was already in prison, what on Earth did that mean? There was something about how Zib asked the question, a wistful hope, that even further confused him.

“No, where would I be taking you?”

A raspy chortle left his twin, almost more of a wheeze, “Of course, of course. Not yet, not for me. I can’t come with you, not yet. I still have to suffer a while longer. But not for long.”

The words of the guard came back to Dib, and the state of his brother’s health became all the more alarming.

“Zib, when was the last time you slept? Or ate?”

The blithe shrug did little to assuage Dib’s fears. 

“When? A while, that’s all I know. I can’t eat, it tastes like ash in my mouth. Makes me sick. And sleep? Why would I want to relive that? I only ever see you there. You haunt me, and I can’t- I can’t ever escape you can I? Not even when I’m awake-”

Zib’s body tensed, a small cry leaving the prisoner. He curled in on himself, trembling violently. Almost childlike if it wasn’t for the setting, or the general state of his appearance. 

“Gods please let this end, It  _ hurts _ \- I know I killed him, I know- Let me at least be with him again, grant me that…  _ Please _ ”

Killed.  _ Killed _ . 

Zim and Gaz’s snide comments about Zib finally knowing “how they felt” clicked into crystal clarity. Why they’d ensured he didn’t go to Zib’s trail. A lie for a lie. A ‘death’ for a ‘death’. 

If he’d never come, how much further would Zib have fallen? How close to- 

No. There was no sense in thoughts like that, not when he was here now. The prince fumbled with the ring of keys, unlocking the cell and doing the only thing he could think of. Dib embraced his brother, trying to anchor the lost prince to some kind of reality, to rescue him from the maelstrom within. Do what he’d failed to before. 

Save Zib. 

Whatever Dib had expected upon embracing Zib, the reality was worse. The protrusion of Zib’s bones against his skin made him feel all the more fragile, capable of breaking at any time. How ironic. 

“I’m here, Zib. I’m  _ here. _ ”

Zib froze in his grasp. Trembling hands rested on his back, searching the fabric for any hint of falsehood. They clutched him tight, like he would disappear at any second. Dib could barely hear the words tumbling from his brother, muffled as they were, but he could hear one phrase, repeated over and over. “How?” 

“I’m alive Zib, you freed me. I’m here.”

“But- but you weren’t there at the trial, I heard the break it’s not  _ possible- _ ”

“And yet I’m here.”

Words, things he’d wanted to say, to ask, all seemed to evaporate. He’d imagined this going so many ways, him reprimanding Zib, Zib unrepentant, some other spell being cast as a final gambit, but not this. These small, broken remains of what once was… He couldn’t help the tears that made it down his own face.

“It’s funny. I missed Zim, I missed Gaz, Father, some days I missed them so much it ached. But even through all you put me through, being trapped, watching you just-” Dib let out a breath, “I missed you too you know?”

His only response was a garbled cry, Zib clutching him closer. Dib just held his younger sibling, trying to remember the last time that he’d held him. He couldn’t remember. For a moment, time stood still and it was only the two brothers. Nothing dividing them, no responsibilities, no resentment, no glass. 

“ _ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry Dib, I’m sorry…” _

Approaching footsteps signaled that his time was almost up, but there was still so much he hadn’t said. Dib turned to look at the guard and shook his head, trying to signal that he needed more time. Thankfully the man stepped back, keeping an eye on the prince the whole time. 

Eventually, the shaking subsided, and Zib peeled away from Dib. A flush of embarrassment across his still quite green face. While the exhaustion remained, he looked more like himself. Less frantic. 

“Dib, so you’re… really alive then. That’s good. That’s… that’s good.”

That sounded more like the Zib he knew, guarded, closed off. If he was back to, well normal wasn’t the right word, but some level of coherent, maybe he could get what he came for. 

“Why… why did you let me go? After months of letting me fade? After controlling Zim, lying to everyone?”

A mixture of contemplation and something resembling anger darkened Zib’s face. Dib readied himself to call for a guard. He didn’t quite know what that look meant, but he hadn’t really understood Zib in years. Or perhaps ever. 

“I couldn’t lie to myself. I couldn’t pretend that it was worth- worth any of what I’d done. Not anymore.”

“So you had thought about letting me go?”

Bitterness crept into Zib’s voice, though its sharp edge was not pointed towards Dib, “I knew. I’d known the whole time that there wasn’t a point. That inevitably I’d fail. It was easier to pretend, at least… it was.”

“Even though you were hurting us? And yourself?”

“At least I was suffering with a purpose, a goal. It meant something. Now though it’s just a constant reminder. That I’m better off not being here. That I deserve this.”

“I don’t want you to suffer, and I certainly don’t want you dead. You’re better than this. I know you are.”   
  


Zib looked lost, “What- what could I possibly do? What is there for me to do? I lost, I’m nothing more than a traitor to the kingdom, I’m nothing. No one.”

He didn’t have a response to that. Objectively, Zib was right. He had everything, while his brother had nothing. Though he knew it was no fault of his, Dib wished he could help somehow. But this wasn’t his battle to fight. 

“I can’t answer that for you. And I don’t think I’ll be able to help, not here. Zib,” Dib stood up, grateful once more for the cane, “I may still love you, but I don’t forgive you. You hurt all of us, and you almost killed me. Don’t take this as anything other than an opportunity.”

“I- that’s fair. That’s more than you should give me really. If it’s not too much to ask,” his twin hunched in on himself, “paper. And a quill. Please.”

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you... Dib?” 

“Yes?”

“Why do  _ you _ care? I did so much to hurt you, and now you’re here.” 

Dib looked Zib up and down. They really were similar, searching for understanding from a sibling they couldn’t quite comprehend. But, that meant Zib wanted to learn. That he was searching for meaning. And maybe... maybe that meant he could change.

“Because I ignored you, I didn’t pay attention to what you were going through for such a long time... I played a part and I want to fix it. But like I said, I don’t forgive you, and by no means were the actions you took justified, but I can at least start to understand why you did what you did.”

Zib sat back down on his cot, eyes cast to the floor. The unfocused expression returned, eyes seeing something real only to him. Shaky hands gripped his arms in a vice before clutching at his head. Breathing growing more and more shallow. Tears started to gather and fall once more.

“Shut up, no, no, shut up, leave me alone,  _ be quiet-” _

“Are you,” Dib started to reach forward, “are you okay?”

“Leave me. I-”

“Zib-”

“GET OUT!”

He left the room, locking the cell behind him, wincing at the cries coming from the other side. Loathe as Dib was to abandon Zib, he couldn’t deny that his time here was up. He’d gotten what he came for, and it was unlikely that his brother would be in a state to converse more. He had a kingdom to attend to as well, now that it all was said and done. 

At least, at the very least, Dib understood. He could only hope that Zib could too, and heal. 

  
  
  


_ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ _

_ As soon as Dib left the room, the thing swooped in, as it always did. He didn’t have a name for it, it didn’t even have a shape, but he knew what it was just the same. The root of all of his problems.  _

_ Himself. _

_ “Weak.” _

_ “Shut up.” _

_ “Pathetic.” _

_ “SHUT UP.” _

_ “He pities you because you are nothing more than a pathetic murderer!” _

_ “BUT I’M NOT A MURDERER! LEAVE ME BE!” _

_ “You may not be a murderer, but you’ll always be a monster to him.” _

_ And wasn’t that just the truth.  _

_ Curling up on the cot, he examined his surroundings once again. He’d yelled and screamed before, to anyone that would hear, in hopes that he’d be taken home, away from this place that sapped the life from his body. Now though… he knew that there would never be a place for him there.  _

_Perhaps there wasn't a place for him anywhere._

_But he knew, in the end, that he'd forever stay this way. Alone._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Zib... Zib... where to begin with this disaster of a man. Probably with the fact that this arc is all about him and me dragging his ass back to the realm of sanity. Whether he wants it or not. I'm not sorry. Writing this is cathartic though, Dib and Zib finally having a fucking conversation (though how much of it Zib's lucid for is debatable), it was a bit of me as an author going "Hey man. You fucked up." 
> 
> But I do have a lot of things planned for the roach, so... :)


End file.
